An odd, slender little boy.
"Come on, nino," Lupe said. "Let's show you off a little bit. Come sit with us."
The boy scrambled against Ingraham, braced, and leaped to the bench on which Rane and Lupe sat. He landed next to
Rane, who started violently. Jacob had leaped like a cat and landed on all fours. His legs and arms were clearly
intended to be used this way. He was a quadruped. He had hands, however, and fingers. He looked at them, following
Rane's eyes.
"They work," he said in a clear, slightly deeper than average child's voice. "They work like yours." He grasped her arm
with the small, startlingly strong, hard hands. Sharp little nails dug into her flesh, and she drew away. Squatting, the
boy sniffed his hands, then wiped them on his shorts.
"You smell," he told Rane, and leaped off the bench and onto it again next to Lupe.
Lupe laughed. "Shame, Jacob. That's not nice to say."
"She does," the boy insisted.
"She's not one of us yet. She will be soon. Then she'll smell different."
Rane completely passed over the insult in her fascination with the boy-the whatever-it-was.
"Can he walk on his feet alone?" she asked Lupe.
"Not so well," Lupe answered. "He tries sometimes because we all do, but it's not natural to him. He gets tired, even
sore if he keeps at it. And it's too slow for him. You like to move fast, don't you, nino?" She lifted the strange little
body and placed it on her lap. Jacob immediately put his ear to her belly.
"I can hear it," he announced.
"Hear the baby?" Rane asked.
"Its heartbeat," Lupe said. "He can hear it without putting his ear to me. It's just a game he likes. He says this one's
going to be a girl. He doesn't understand how he can tell, but he knows. Smell, maybe."
"Guessing, maybe," Rane said.
"Oh no, he does know. He's called it right four times so far. Now women come and ask him."
"But . . . but, Lupe-"
"Stop for a moment," Lupe said. Then to the boy, "Okay, nino. Back out to play. Take some nuts."
The boy leaped down from her lap, trotted on all fours to the china nut dish on the plain, homemade coffee table. He
took a handful of nuts, stuffed them into the pocket of his shorts and zipped it shut. He seemed to have no trouble using
his hands. They were smaller than Rane thought they should have been, but he was less clumsy with them than a
normal child would have been. He was certainly much faster than any normal child, probably faster than most adults.
All his movements were smooth and graceful. A graceful four-year-old.
He stopped in front of her-beautiful child head, sleek catlike body. A miniature sphinx. What would it be when it grew
up? Not a man, certainly.
"I don't like you either," Jacob said. "You're fat and you smell and you're ugly!"
"Jacob!" Lupe stood up and started toward him. "Vayase! Ahora mismo! Outside!"
Jacob bounded out the door. No, human beings did not move that way. How had any disease made such a creature of a
child?
"He's telling the truth, you know," Lupe said. "You do look fat and odd to him, though you're not. And you smell . . .
different. Also, he couldn't miss how much you were repelled by him."
"I don't understand how such a thing could happen," Rane whispered.
"It's the disease, I told you. We don't even have a name for it-the disease of Clay's Ark. All our children are like Jacob."
"All . . . ?" Rane swallowed. "All animals? All things?"
"Shit!" Lupe said. "You're worse than I was. You should be more tolerant. He's a little boy."
Rane stared at her pregnant belly.
"Oh yes," Lupe said. "This child will be like Jacob too, just as my son is. Beautiful and different. And, chica, your
children will be like him too. The disease doesn't go away. It just settles in and stays with you and you pass it on to
strangers and to your children."
"Or you get treatment!" Rane said. "What the hell are you doing sitting in the middle of the desert giving birth to
monsters and kidnapping people?"
Lupe smiled. "Eli
"Come on, nino," Lupe said. "Let's show you off a little bit. Come sit with us."
The boy scrambled against Ingraham, braced, and leaped to the bench on which Rane and Lupe sat. He landed next to
Rane, who started violently. Jacob had leaped like a cat and landed on all fours. His legs and arms were clearly
intended to be used this way. He was a quadruped. He had hands, however, and fingers. He looked at them, following
Rane's eyes.
"They work," he said in a clear, slightly deeper than average child's voice. "They work like yours." He grasped her arm
with the small, startlingly strong, hard hands. Sharp little nails dug into her flesh, and she drew away. Squatting, the
boy sniffed his hands, then wiped them on his shorts.
"You smell," he told Rane, and leaped off the bench and onto it again next to Lupe.
Lupe laughed. "Shame, Jacob. That's not nice to say."
"She does," the boy insisted.
"She's not one of us yet. She will be soon. Then she'll smell different."
Rane completely passed over the insult in her fascination with the boy-the whatever-it-was.
"Can he walk on his feet alone?" she asked Lupe.
"Not so well," Lupe answered. "He tries sometimes because we all do, but it's not natural to him. He gets tired, even
sore if he keeps at it. And it's too slow for him. You like to move fast, don't you, nino?" She lifted the strange little
body and placed it on her lap. Jacob immediately put his ear to her belly.
"I can hear it," he announced.
"Hear the baby?" Rane asked.
"Its heartbeat," Lupe said. "He can hear it without putting his ear to me. It's just a game he likes. He says this one's
going to be a girl. He doesn't understand how he can tell, but he knows. Smell, maybe."
"Guessing, maybe," Rane said.
"Oh no, he does know. He's called it right four times so far. Now women come and ask him."
"But . . . but, Lupe-"
"Stop for a moment," Lupe said. Then to the boy, "Okay, nino. Back out to play. Take some nuts."
The boy leaped down from her lap, trotted on all fours to the china nut dish on the plain, homemade coffee table. He
took a handful of nuts, stuffed them into the pocket of his shorts and zipped it shut. He seemed to have no trouble using
his hands. They were smaller than Rane thought they should have been, but he was less clumsy with them than a
normal child would have been. He was certainly much faster than any normal child, probably faster than most adults.
All his movements were smooth and graceful. A graceful four-year-old.
He stopped in front of her-beautiful child head, sleek catlike body. A miniature sphinx. What would it be when it grew
up? Not a man, certainly.
"I don't like you either," Jacob said. "You're fat and you smell and you're ugly!"
"Jacob!" Lupe stood up and started toward him. "Vayase! Ahora mismo! Outside!"
Jacob bounded out the door. No, human beings did not move that way. How had any disease made such a creature of a
child?
"He's telling the truth, you know," Lupe said. "You do look fat and odd to him, though you're not. And you smell . . .
different. Also, he couldn't miss how much you were repelled by him."
"I don't understand how such a thing could happen," Rane whispered.
"It's the disease, I told you. We don't even have a name for it-the disease of Clay's Ark. All our children are like Jacob."
"All . . . ?" Rane swallowed. "All animals? All things?"
"Shit!" Lupe said. "You're worse than I was. You should be more tolerant. He's a little boy."
Rane stared at her pregnant belly.
"Oh yes," Lupe said. "This child will be like Jacob too, just as my son is. Beautiful and different. And, chica, your
children will be like him too. The disease doesn't go away. It just settles in and stays with you and you pass it on to
strangers and to your children."
"Or you get treatment!" Rane said. "What the hell are you doing sitting in the middle of the desert giving birth to
monsters and kidnapping people?"
Lupe smiled. "Eli
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